“Cool,” she said casually. “That stuff was so sold out. You couldn’t get it for months. No one makes matte lipstick like she does, though.” I looked over at the other Ts, who both seemed to be inspecting my lips too. The only reason I owned this lipstick was because Maddy had gotten it for me, she was cool that way. She knew what everyone was wearing and wasn’t wearing, and she was always trying to bond with me over this—I guess she really didn’t know me. And then, out of the blue, I was being ambushed again.

“You have to drink with Jake,” a guy said and started pulling me again.

“Wait . . . no.” I pulled back.

“Dude, that’s the rule. Whoever catches the ball, drinks!”

“But . . .”

Another arm wrapped around my shoulders. This time it was Amber’s. I didn’t much like the way she was looking at me.

“You have to,” she crooned in my ear. “It’s tradition.” She pulled me into the crowd and a chant started.

“Shooters! Shooters! Shooters!” People flocked around me, and I began to feel very claustrophobic. Drowning in a sea of people. And then, through the crowd a familiar face appeared and my heart did a very involuntary series of backflips.

“Hey,” Jake said, looking at me.

“Hey,” I mumbled back.

“Shooters! Shooters! Shooters! Shooters! Shooters! Shooters!” The chant got louder, and a bright blue and white shooter was thrust into my hand. The colors of BWH.

The crowd leaned in and I looked over at Jake, who was raising the glass to his lips. I raised mine slowly and then brought my nose over it to sniff.

“Oh God!” I half choked as the blue liquid suddenly flew into my face as someone knocked the bottom of my glass. It dripped down my chin, and the rest splashed across my dress and forehead. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Amber laughing. Her head was back, her mouth was open, and because of the way the light was positioned straight above her, it was dark and shadowy inside. Like a bloody black mamba. Did you know that just two drops of black mamba venom can kill a person in twenty minutes?

But no one else was laughing. Everyone else was cheering me on, as if this was all part of the game. I looked up at Jake, and while everyone was distracted, he spilled his drink into a nearby potted plant. No one seemed to have noticed. Except me. And then everyone lost interest in Jake and me as more blue and white shooters got poured and passed around.

I walked away, trying to wipe the sticky liquid off me.